It was a bloody battle, redness covering him and eating away his visions. All he could see was crimson – there was no distinguishing between land and sky. The figure in front of him – his adversary – moved swiftly without hesitation, each blow of the weapon hitting him to this core. He coughed out more blood and raised his own weapon, blocking some of the attacks – but not much.

"So…it has come down to this?" He said through gritted teeth as he looked up to the attacker, back facing the sun. Fiery red eyes looked back as the figure shook his head sadly.

He grinned bitterly, as if acknowledging the situation. The man was silent for a while, and the battle was still. Then, as if on cue, the man raised his weapon high above his head, and swung it down. Just moments before, everything had seemed to be in his favour. Just moments before, the tides suddenly changed. Just moments prior were the calm before the storm.

The battlefield was a haunting silence, two clashing sides speaking naught. Both parties were tensed, muscles tout and weapons ready – but none moved. Drew grimaced, waiting for the Lion's troop to make their move. He knew that they were under numbered, and they have to move cautiously. The Lionguards brandished silver, and though they were humans, they were a deadly battalion with the blades that can take a Werelord's life. Drew must tread carefully.

Vankaskan made the first move as he commanded his men to bring out a dark red box, intricate scribbles and patterns adorned the ancient coffin. Rei peered at it, her spear gripped tightly in her two hands. Those motifs…they looked like the tattoo on Evaxus' arm. Cold sweat broke out in her forehead, scenes of her nightmare flashed in her mind. Why do I feel so edgy? My uneasiness is expanding. She glanced at Evaxus, and his puzzled expression told her that he noticed the same thing as well. Only both of them recognized the draconic symbols – Drew and the rest have yet to know more about the Dragonlords to identify those associated with the Dragons.

Rei swallowed, moisturizing her dried throat with thin threads of saliva. The mist lingered, and the sky darkened as the thunders loomed. As if coinciding with the roars in the far distance, Vankaskan started chanting – slithered tongue Evaxus was too familiar with – as he opened the cap to the small vial and let the red liquid drip down to the opened sarcophagus. Rei squinted – she couldn't make out what was inside. Evaxus was tensed, his emotions surging as she felt the temperature around him dropping. Heck, she could even see frosted breaths coming from between his teeth as he snarled.

"More trickery huh, Rat? Bring it on!" The young Dragonlord shouted into the distance. Duke Bergan stomped his feet as he growled. Count Vega swished his cutlass into the air, while the two Wereladies watched on. Drew looked over his team-mates – aye, each and every one of them was willing to fight, to end this war. He steadied his glare forward.

Hector was expecting a corpse, of course – perhaps a great warrior of the Lion's troop or even Leopold himself. The young Boarlod was certain that the Rat would make full use of whatever body he could get his hands on, having gone through years of apprenticeship under the magister – indeed, he has learnt a lot from the old Rat. Much more than I should be, thought Hector as he clenched his blackened palm. The Vincent-vile danced around him, watching the impending battle in malicious glee. There was an oppressing aura that evolved from the Wererat's ritual, gathering and hovering around the coffin. As the last drop of liquid flowed from the tiny vial onto the body, the darkness concentrated around the figure as it moved and climbed out of its prison. Prince Lucas' face was of pure shock as he eyed the risen dead. I can smell his fear, brother! The vile snickered. Vankaskan's face was the opposite – a twisted grin of pure malevolent delight contorting his figures. The Rat laughed as he shouted.

"Rise, lowly creature, and do your master's bidding! You have been given a new life by me, the great magister Vankaskan – and your soul is mine." He hissed as the figure clambered out of the casket. The undead looked at his hand and flexed his fingers, and then he looked around, as if contemplating the situation.

Hector heard Evaxus gasped.

"No…this, this can't be! How..but, why-"

Rei turned to her brother, his handsome face distorted in confusion, mouth agape. He right hand that has gripped Rimetalon loosened, and the blade slid to the ground.

The figure picked up his weapon from the coffin and strode towards Drew and his group. The young Werewolf immediately flinched, knowing that whoever this was, there was a reason why Vankaskan called him forward – and he will not let his guard down. But the next word that came out of Evaxus' mouth shocked him more so than the hulking undead warrior coming his way.

"Father…"

Rei gasped as well and she gazed at the black-haired man. He looked relatively fresh for a corpse – whether it was the embalming of the body or Dragon magicks she didn't know – and he looked relatively alive. If she had not seen the Wererat calling for it from its grave, she would have thought that he was just another battle-scarred warrior. His long black hair flowed behind him as he walked silently, beard reaching his chest from his chin. His irises were red like wine, but there were some blue flames burning behind it. The armour he adorned was red like his eyes, full plate mails providing full protection. A roaring dragon motif was etched on his chest plate, and in his right hand was a massive, modified glaive with an axe-blade at its other end. The dragon skull was battered but not at the least rusty – even through the century, the weapon was as deadly as it was 50 years ago.

Evaxus was speechless. So, this was the plan all along…

Brother, he is the Skull of the prophecy! See the undead with the skull-blade! Vincent said excitedly. Hector nodded in acknowledgement, excited as well for witnessing yet another Dragonlord – but facing one in battle was most apprehensive, and he was shaking. This man exuded another kind of aura…unlike Evaxus, his was fiery, yet there was an oppressing darkness. This foe is powerful.

"Evaxus, get a grip of yourself!" Drew yelled and Evaxus jolted, glancing at him with dejected eyes. "That man is not your father anymore – you know it as much as I do. You've got to hold it together!"

He felt hollow inside, facing the man that used to be his father. The stances, the walking styles, the face, the garment…all were the same as his memories. Perhaps all was just a nightmare? Perhaps he didn't travel to the future and meet Drew and the rest…?

I can't fight him…

He took a step back. Lakirain stopped as he reached the middle of the battlefield. Then, with a thundering voice – the same voice as when he was alive – he spoke.

"Son."

"Father…" He felt like it was back to his youth, where he looked up to his father along with Rezca and his other dragonkins. The sky and endless grasslands stretched so vast, and the two of them would have practice matches and sparred with each other. The other dragonkins would laugh and comment on how much of a distance it was between he and Lakirain, and Evaxus would practice even more so that one day he would surpass his father.

"Don't hesitate – this was meant to be. I have to fight you, I had no choice – this is out fate, Evaxus. This is your destiny. The chapter of the Dragonlords is over – and the two of us will end it. Raise your sword, Evaxus! And fight me, as my son, as a man, as a true warrior!" Lakirain boomed and raised his glaive. He breathed a stream of fire into the blade, and the eyes of the skull seemed to glow with the flame.

"Kill the Dragon, and kill the Werewolf and his gang!" Vankaskan commanded. As his minion now, the risen Dragonlord could not disobey.

Evaxus stood there, motionlessly and silent. There's got to be a way…

"Father, please! We don't have to do this…" He said. But just before he could finish his sentence, Lakirain swung his mighty blade and shot out a line of flame, aiming at the Wolflord.

"Look out!" Drew shouted in alarm and dived. The rest of them ducked, barely escaping the lick of the fire. "Evaxus, don't forget your promise! You promised your parents you will fulfill the prophecy. You promised me that you will stand and fight! What about those promises you have made? Are you going back on your words? Evaxus!"

Evaxus cringed, knowing that what Drew said was right. He would fight, all right – but would it help at all? He knew the rift between his father and him was all too great – how long would he last until he die under his father's blade?...

He looked around at his team-mates who fell rolling on the ground. The injuries were superficial mostly, but he spotted Rei with a burn mark across her arm. She took the brunt of the fire when it came, he recalled and scowled. Images of the burning torture came back to him. You idiot Evaxus, what do you think you were doing? Making empty promises?

Yes, I will fight. I will not turn back and run from fate anymore. I will face my destiny. And Rei…I will protect you.

He took Rimetalon in his hand and stood forward.

"As you said, father. Now we stand on the different sides of the battlefield, and I will save you, Father. I will save your soul from the wretched Wererat's grasp and reunite you with Mother." Evaxus glowered, Rimetalon once again coated with frost.

"Very well." Lakirain spoke without expression, the blue flames dancing more violently in his eyes. "Your mother and I were very proud of you, son. But here, our paths diverge in the eyes of Fate herself." As he finished his sentence, he yelled, arms shooting out in two directions. Suddenly, a ring of fire exploded through the air, surrounding them in a deadly, fiery coliseum. Evaxus looked back to see Drew and the rest shielding themselves from the flames which covered such great distances – he knew what was the meaning of this. This was their fight, and only theirs – no one from the Wolf's side or the Lion's side will meet each other or join in until this battle was over. It all fell on his shoulders.

I will not lose.

I cannot lose.

Evaxus braced himself for the first blow from Lakirain. The older Dragonlord swung his glaive sideways, slicing through the air with a furious swipe. Evaxus leaped back just in time from the burning metal, but Lakirain has made a continuous attack with the axe at the other end of his weapon. Quickly, Evaxus raised his sword to block off the blade just inches from his face. The ice was steaming from the heat of the blade his Father wielded emitted. While his sword was forged from Sturmish ores, gathered from the White Peaks, Lakirain's glaive was made from the furnaces in Omir. Heated in the hearths from the deserts, the Ifrit's Spine was made specially to withstand great amounts of heat. Coupled with Lakirain's element of fire, the warrior-chief of the Dragons was truly a much-feared emissary of flame.

The two figures broken the clash and jumped back. Before his feet could even touch the ground Evaxus has gathered much ice element to shoot ice spikes at Lakirain. The older Dragonlord could not evade in time and threw out his hand to summon a wall of fire, melting most of the missiles. Some of them have penetrated the shield, but with their edges melted away they became harmless ice cubes.

The speed. I can win if I am faster.

Noted the fact that Lakirain's movements was slower than him, Evaxus immediately took this into consideration. He kicked out, projecting himself forward as he raised the blade. Lakirain looked up to see the young Dragonlord plunging towards him, the sword aimed at his heart. Side-stepping the attack, the blade merely scratched his thick armour.

"You've improved from the last time I saw you." Lakirain said.

"I've had time to practice while you were sleeping, Father." Evaxus smirked back, beads of sweat flowing down his cheek. Lakirain raised his leg and kicked out, hitting Evaxus square in the abdomen. The impact squeezed the air out of Evaxus with a sharp pain as he flew backwards. Perhaps he has warmed up or has become used to his new state of the undead, Lakirain's speed was increasing. The late Dragon chief was surprisingly agile despite the heavy-looking armour. Wasting no time, Lakirain ran to where Evaxus has fallen and slashed. Instinctively he threw out his sword, and once again Rimetalon clashed with Ifrit's Spine. The strength was overpowering as Rimetalon get pushed down. Evaxus gritted his teeth, looking up to the expressionless man who used to be his father. Father…I will release you from the Rat's grasp!

Behind him Drew paced frantically along the perimeters of the fire circle, but the strength of the flames was too great for him to pass through or leap through. Rei was eyeing him, worried, from the sidelines. He turned to flash her a smile. Don't worry, Rei.

On the other side of the battlefield, past Lakirain's hulking figure were Prince Lucas and his troops. All of them were staring, bewildered, at the two Dragonlords' fight. The Werelion tried to maintain a haughty look on his face despite clear apprehension at the duo. Vankaskan continued to grin maniacally.

With a yell, columns of ice shot out from underneath the soil and dived into the chest of Lakirain, smashing against the armour and sent him flying back. The red warrior was clad in protective plates except for his head and his hands, and Evaxus saw the opportunity to strike as he thrust his blade out. The sword extended out as a blade of ice burst from its tip, digging into the flesh of Lakirain's left hand. Lakirain looked down as he stabled himself, the wound on his left hand like a hole – yet, he felt no pain. He was dead already, body and soul. He smirked sadly. There was no blood that poured out of the gaping flesh – rather, it was the dark elements that have flowed in his veins in place of blood. Of course, as an undead, his ability to heal was gone. Lakirain looked forward towards Evaxus with red glowing eyes.

"No more playing, now, Evaxus." Lakirain roared and leaped, covering the distance between him and the younger Dragonlord. It took Evaxus off guard as he stood there, surprised at both the flesh wound and Lakirain's speed. Ifrit's Spine came down in a flash, though he backed away, the attack had hit its target. The blade of the glaive was stained with blood, the same colour as Lakirain's armour. Evaxus fell to the ground, having a long gash across his chest. He wheezed, and blood continued to pour out. Rimetalon has fallen out of his grasp, and Lakirain stood over him.

"So…it has come down to this?" Evaxus smirked bitterly, attempting to hide the pain he was in. Lakirain merely looked at him with emotionless eyes. He saw his father held Ifrit's Spine over the head, the edges of the blade gleaming with a haunting red. He could hear Vankaskan's evil laughter in the distance, and the screaming of Rei towards his back.

To die here….?

Rei…

The blade came down swinging.

"What happened in there? Is Evaxus okay?" Rei asked frantically. The circle of fire has become greater and fiercer, wall of flames shooting into the sky with immense ferocity. None of them could get a good look as Lakirain's powers increased, let alone close in.

"I can't get in there!" Drew shouted in desperation as he tried to leap over the flames in his Werewolf form. But whenever he got close to the fire, the heat alone burnt him. He could not get across even with his jumping ability.

"Damn it!" Duke Bergan was bellowing.

"As each flame gets put out, more joined in – this is endless!" Whitley and Gretchen have managed to source out a stream nearby and have been relentlessly gathering water to extinguish the fire, but it seemed like their efforts are not yielding results.

Drew looked at Hector, but the young Boarlod merely shook his head.

"I know what you're thinking, Drew – but the Dragon's magick is ancient and powerful. As a young magister, I can do nothing."

Suddenly, Rei let out a faint scream. The rest gathered and peered through the flames, only to find Evaxus lying on the ground with blood gushing out from his chest. Lakirain stood over him, weapon poised. Then, the blade swung down.

"No!"

Out of a sudden the blade froze in mid-air, a chain of ice forming from the adjacent grounds to the weapon. Lakirain growled.

"I'm running out of energy soon, Father." Rei could hear Evaxus speaking. "No more playing, as you said." The white-haired boy grinned resentfully as he snarled. His fangs sharpened, and snout lengthened. The cyan blue eyes turned to a silvery blue as a pair of giant wings burst out from his back. With a howl, he took to the sky, leaving Lakirain on the land. He was mystical and powerful – a transformed Dragonlord. Evaxus' chest heaved with exhaustion as the transformation complete while blood continued to ooze out of his wound.

"Let's end this, Father!"

Curse this mortal wound.

He looked down from the sky – he could see Lakirain, Vankaskan and Drew clearly. From this viewpoint, he felt in control, as if he could do anything. This is the power of a Dragonlord.

Yet, the wound drained his energy and his spirit. He has been using much magicks on top of old wounds, and he could feel himself slipping away. He has to end this, and fast. Rimetalon was held in his right hand, white frost adorning the Sturmish steel. The irony, isn't it, Father? To get killed by your son, by the sword you forged?

"Very well, Son." Lakirain grunted as flesh shifted underneath his dried skin. Can he still call on the Dragon? Evaxus grimaced. Evaxus' question got answered soon enough, as the unmistakable horns and wings burst out from Lakirain's flesh. Powered by pure dark element, Lakirain's body could disregard its already dead state. The full-fledged Fire Dragon was much bigger and stronger than the adolescent Ice Dragon, and the complete opposite of what Evaxus represented. Lakirain's scales were of a crimson red, and his horns an ebony black. The stark contrast between blue and red, white and black was mesmerizingly beautiful, if this was not on a battleground. Lakirain breathed out fire as he readied his weapon once again, eyes tingeing with malice and challenge. The darkness has corroded him, somewhat, as Evaxus noted how some features of the Fire Dragon were…distorted. This was more than a dragon of fire, but an embodiment of the darkness element as well. Not a foe to be taken lightly.

The blood from Evaxus' wound continued to ooze out blood, while darkness element flowed down Lakirain's body.

Lakirain smirked as he noticed the lack of healing ability in both warriors.

For a while, there was only silence. Then, the clash began once again. Ifrit's Spine collided with Rimetalon, as fire and ice intertwined with each other. The two Dragonlords unleashed their magicks onto each other, hoping to bring one another down. There were no words, only growls and snarls – they have lost themselves in the heat of the battle.

"Go for it, Evaxus!" Rei shouted. Soon enough, the rest joined in to cheer Evaxus on. But the younger Dragonlord could not hold on long enough. He saw a column of fire charging towards him, and he flew to his right, only to find Lakirain's hulking presence burst through the flames. Ifrit's Spine came down, and accompanied by a burning sensation, Evaxus has lost his left arm. The lifeless limb fell to the ground with a thud.

Evaxus was panting, the loss of blood tilting his balance. His right eye was gone as well, having licked by a fire snake made from the claws of his father. But it was not to say that Lakirain has suffered nothing – the Fire Dragon was panting too, alright, his weapon arm shaking from exhaustion and wings battered. Evaxus charged forward with ice spikes and Lakirain guarded himself out of instinct – yet the ice weren't aimed at his body but his wings. Soon enough, as the ice darted through the membrane of the mighty wings, Lakirain fell to the ground.

Having drained of his powers, the fire circle extinguished. No one made a move on the two separate sides of the battlefield however, as the two Dragonlords made their final moves on each other.

The empty left arm hung limply from the shoulders as he clenched Rimetalon in his intact right hand. Lakirain now sat, motionless, on the ground. He doesn't seem to have plans for making any moves. With Rimetalon, Evaxus moved Ifrit's Spine aside, out of Lakirain's reach.

"You've lost, Father." He said, cold blue eyes gazing down at Lakirain.

"Probably." Lakirain gave an androgynous reply. Human traits resurfacing from below his draconic features. "Seems like being a risen dead…can't maintain transformation too long. I feel only darkness, my son." Lakirain mumbled and looked up to Evaxus. "Pure darkness."

Evaxus raised his right arm, Rimetalon glinting under the sun. His eyes were teary.

"End this." Lakirain smirked.

With a howl, the frosted sword plunged into the heart of the old Dragonlord.

So marks the end of the Dragons' battle…but surely, the war has not ended, right? *smirks*

The author has planned for things coming up in the next chapter. *Vankaskan-like evil laughters*

Do look out for the next chapter, which is the last chapter for this epic sage. All is not what it seems on the surface~

No teasers for now. :p